


As Expected

by phoenixwings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, M/M, Smut, Table Sex, Wall Sex, married Yuuri/Victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9384866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: Yuuri’s never been with anyone else but Victor, but he learned quickly how turning something from thoughts to something tactile is never as easy as just doing it. Sometimes the timing is bad, or it’s over quicker than expected, or it’s just not as good as imagined. As long as he’s with Victor, Yuuri doesn’t think he could ever be too frustrated when things don’t work out as expected. The two of them are nothing if not inventive.Or: Sometimes fantasies don't go as expected.Sometimes they turn out better.





	

It had been Yuuri’s idea. Ever since they’d started practicing lifts on the ice—first for fun, and then for his exhibition skate—Yuuri had a certain fantasy. He’d never thought of himself as someone who had sexual fantasies before. Oh, sure, there had been vague thoughts and ideas, but nothing so vivid as to what his mind sometimes supplied him with now when he saw his husband’s eyes light up in laughter or the delicious cut of his hips that Yuuri likes to trace with his tongue.  
  
The possibility presents itself for the first time one evening after they got back from a nice dinner. They had stumbled back into their apartment with their hands all over each other, and had made it as far as the couch before all the clothes came off. Yuuri knows an opportunity when he sees it, so when Victor starts to carry him into the bedroom, Yuuri stops him.  
  
“Lift me,” Yuuri says, holding his arms up. Victor complies and Yuuri wraps his legs tightly around Victor’s back, his arms coming to rest naturally around Victor’s neck.  
  
“Wall,” Yuuri murmurs, and Victor seems to get the message. He pins him against the wall with force. The surface is cool along Yuuri’s back, and Victor closes him in, leaving him delightfully trapped. Yuuri tangles a hand in Victor’s hair as Victor sucks on an earlobe, and Yuuri goes pliant in his capable of hands. Victor’s fingernails dig into Yuuri’s side and he leans into the pressure, sighing as Victor lowers his head to nip at Yuuri’s collarbone. He can feel the line of Victor’s erection pressing against his stomach and he wants.    
  
“Please, Victor,” Yuuri encourages, “ _take me._ ”  
  
Victor inhales sharply at that and he leaves an open-mouth kiss at the column of Yuuri’s neck.  
  
“Okay, okay,” He agrees. “Here, let’s—” He lifts Yuuri up a little higher on his hips, Yuuri wriggling as they try to find a good angle. Yuuri presses his body down at the same time that Victor leans back and their heads bump.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” Victor says hastily, “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Yuuri assures, tentatively moving one hand from the back of Victor’s neck and sweeping the bangs away from his face. “Try again?”  
  
Victor stays still this time and Yuuri leans forward, using Victor’s hips for leverage.  
  
“There we go,” He says, “Just—” Victor tries lifting him up again, but the motion tumbles Yuuri forward and Victor staggers underneath the weight. He rights himself, but not before kneeing Yuuri’s thigh. Yuuri hisses at the sharp influx of pain.

"Sorry, sorry," Victor repeats.  
  
“Victor,” Yuuri says seriously, “in America there is a show called Sex Sent Me to the ER. I don’t want to be on it.”  
  
Victor laughs at that. “I think you’re safe from that here anyway. But I’ll do my best.”  
  
Victor presses him back all the way against the wall again and Yuuri tips his head back, giving Victor access to leave decadent kisses along his throat. He closes his eyes when Victor reaches that one spot right along the edge of his collarbone that always makes him shiver.  
  
“Let’s try this,” Victor murmurs, moving his hands from where they’re holding Yuuri’s hip to the back of his thigh. Yuuri misses the close contact, but yeah, this is way better for moving. It’s easy from there for Yuuri to lift his hips just enough and he can feel Victor’s cock teasing at his rim.  
  
“Good?” Victor asks.  
  
“I’m great,” Yuuri says into the crook of Victor’s neck. Victor’s already used his fingers on him when they were making out on the couch, and he’s been lightheaded with desire since even earlier than that. He feels the slow press of Victor inside of him, slightly uncomfortable but in a way that promises pleasure soon, and bites down on Victor’s neck as Victor continues to press forward slowly. He waste no time in rolling his hips once Victor is all the way inside, eager to feel Victor move inside him. He feels the texture of the wall behind him as he moves and that just spurs him on more. Victor groans as he pulls his hips away, then pushes forward again with a gentle thrust.  
  
“Come on, I know you can do better than that,” Yuuri says into the shell of Victor’s ear, knowing just how to rile his husband up. Victor growls and snaps his hips, but but stumbles slightly again under Yuuri’s movements and slips out. Yuuri grinds down eagerly, but his body doesn’t get the contact he desires. He glances up. Victor’s gaze is still highly charged, but they both can’t help but to laugh. The breath from Victor's laughter tickles the hair at the back of Yuuri's neck and Yuuri lets his head rest on Victor's shoulder as they compose themselves.  
  
“Darling, I think we might need to call this disaster for what it is,” Victor says.  
  
Yuuri sighs into Victor's shoulder. “It’s not going to happen, is it?” He’s a little upset his fantasy isn’t playing out quite how he imagined it, but then, if there’s anything he’s learned, it’s that they rarely do. Yuuri’s never been with anyone else but Victor, but he learned quickly how turning something from thoughts to something tactile is never as easy as just doing it. Sometimes the timing is bad, or it’s over quicker than expected, or it’s just not as good as imagined. As long as he’s with Victor, Yuuri doesn’t think he could ever be too frustrated when things don’t work out as expected. The two of them are nothing if not inventive.  
  
Victor hums and squeezes the flesh at the back of Yuuri’s thigh. “I don’t think so. Should I carry you to the bedroom? I’ve heard that body strength can be quite a turn-on for some.” Yuuri laughs. “Or,” Victor continues, his voice dropping low, “I could fuck you over the table until your legs turn to jelly.”  
  
Yuuri’s mouth goes dry at that and he’s pretty sure he lets out a whine. “Yes. That,” He manages to choke out.  
  
Victor sets him down on the edge of the table. “Turn over,” He commands. Yuuri scrambles to obey, sliding down until his feet just barely touch the floor. The edge of the table cuts sharply across his abdomen and Yuuri knows the spot will probably be tender and bruised in the morning, but he doesn’t care. He hears Victor walking towards the living room, but just keeps his head down, and understands when he hears the familiar sound of a bottle cap.  
  
Victor presses in two fingers at once, though Yuuri knows it’s more to tease him than anything practical, since he’s still loose from their earlier activities. Victor crooks a finger and finds his prostate, and Yuuri lets out a whimper. It’s been a long, slow climb to the peak this particular evening and it’s driving Yuuri crazy.  
  
He loves it.  
  
He feels Victor settle behind him. Victor doesn’t go slow this time, though. The sound of their labored breathing and skin hitting fills the apartment. Victor picks up the pace and the entire table shakes beneath Yuuri. Each thrust forces Yuuri forward over the table a little more and the friction where his own cock is trapped between his stomach and the table feels wonderful and yet not nearly enough. Victor lifts Yuuri’s hips a little and raises him further up on the table. His feet are centimeters from the ground, and the new angle makes Yuuri’s mouth drop open.  
  
“More, c'mon,” Yuuri encourages, “Take me like you mean it. _Show me._ ”  
  
Victor reaches forward just enough to tangle a hand in Yuuri’s hair and pull his head up roughly.  
  
“Like this?” Victor asks, his hips moving even faster, almost painfully hitting Yuuri’s thigh, “Do you think I mean it now?”  
  
“Yes, yes,” Yuuri gasps out, leaning his head forward a little just to feel the bite of Victor’s tug. Victor manages to hit his prostate again and his knees buckle that time, making him slump forward even more. The only thing propping him up is the table beneath him and Victor’s hands on his hip and in his hair. Victor says something in Russian—Yuuri can’t understand every word but he knows enough to hear _beautiful_ and _perfect_ and _mine_ — and Yuuri can tell by the way Victor’s breathing gets even more erratic that he’s close. It’s only one, two, three more times before Victor lets out a shaky “Yuuri,” and slumps over him. The weight presses him further down into the table, but it’s hard for Yuuri to care when Victor’s frantically kissing the back of his neck and whispering “ _beautiful_ ” in three different languages in his ear.  
  
Victor pulls away slowly, letting his hands trail over Yuuri’s back. Yuuri closes his eyes and presses his cheek to the cool wood of the table as he listens to Victor wet a rag in the sink. He stays silent as Victor cleans them up. Victor plies him off the table and hoists him into a bridal carry, which makes Yuuri laugh again.  
  
“Hello love,” Victor says with a smile. He places a quick kiss to Yuuri’s temple, and carries him over to the couch. Victor manages easily, but he’s short of breath and still a little wild-eyed, and it delights Yuuri to no end that _he_ is the cause of that. Victor sits him down on the couch and then sinks to the floor beside him. He starts kissing a line up from the top of Yuuri’s ankle to his hip.  
  
“Might hurt your knees,” Yuuri warns. Victor had taken a particularly hard fall the day before in practice and Yuuri knows he’s still feeling the remnants of it.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Victor says between placing kisses on Yuuri’s skin, “I don’t expect to be down here very long.” Yuuri whimpers at that, but he knows it’s true. He’s felt on edge forever now, and all it will take is a few touches to send him tumbling over.  
  
Victor drags his teeth over the set of stretch marks on Yuuri’s left thigh, which causes Yuuri to inadvertently spread his legs further apart. Victor buries his head between thighs, leaving soft nips at the sensitive flesh there. Yuuri lets out a pleased sigh as jolts of pleasure rush through him.  
  
“Lift your legs a bit,” Victor says, and Yuuri lets Victor move them so that both of his legs are hooked over Victor’s shoulder. It makes him slump further down on the couch and Victor’s head disappears in between his thighs. Yuuri thinks it might be his favorite sight. Yuuri squeezes, a little, because he knows Victor likes that. And finally, finally Victor is touching him, rubbing the head of his cock and chasing the bead of pre-come that rolls down with his tongue. Yuuri whimpers as Victor lowers his head and swallows him down. They’ve been doing this long enough that Victor knows exactly how to make Yuuri fall apart with just a few movements of his tongue. Victor knows how much Yuuri likes it when he runs the flat of his tongue along the base, or when he flicks his tongue over the slit, and each move pulls another moan out of Yuuri.  
  
“Close,” Yuuri warns, his thighs squeezing even tighter around Victor, who just scratches a line over the top of Yuuri’s thigh. Victor glances up and the eye contact what finally drives Yuuri over that edge with a shout. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the couch as Victor continues to gently suck during the tremors of Yuuri’s orgasm until it gets to be too much and Yuuri gently pushes him away. Victor rests his head against the side of Yuuri’s thigh.  
  
Yuuri carefully disentangles his leg from around Victor’s head, then scoots over to the side of the couch so he can kiss his husband properly. Victor sighs and closes his eyes when Yuuri cups his chin, and the kiss that makes him melt is nothing at all like the heated ones they shared earlier this evening. Victor picks himself off the floor and stretches his arms. His eyes sweep over Yuuri’s body.  
  
“What?” Yuuri asks.  
  
“Just admiring good work,” Victor says with a smirk. Yuuri glances down to look at all the marks Victor’s left on his skin. Some are older and faded, but the new ones stand out against his pale flesh. Yuuri presses a finger to where he’s pretty sure a new bruise in forming on his hips and hisses when the pressure yields a new tenderness. Victor leans back over and kisses the spot again.  
  
“Bed?” Victor asks.  
  
“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees. He holds his arms out, “Lift, please.”  
  
 “I’ve created a monster,” He says, but lifts Yuuri again anyway. “Should I just get used to carrying you everywhere?”  
  
“I don’t think Yakov would like that very much. But you’re the one who said you were going to turn my legs to jelly.”  
  
“Did it work?” Victor asks.  
  
“Mostly,” Yuuri says. His legs do feel heavy, though he _could_ walk if he had to. But why should he, when he has Victor to carry him, and he can lean his head against Victor’s chest where it fits so nicely?    
  
“I’ll have to work harder next time,” Victor says as he opens the door to their room. Makkachin looks up from the bed and wags her tail. Yuuri almost feels bad for exiling her to the bedroom earlier. Almost.  
  
Yuuri stretches out on the bed when Victor sets him down.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Victor promises with a squeeze of his hand. Yuuri is satisfied to drift in the hazy, blissful space between sleeping and waking as he waits. When Victor returns, he presses a water bottle into Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri takes a few sips.  
  
“Do you want a painkiller?” Victor asks. Yuuri shakes his head. “You might be sore in the morning.”  
  
“Worth it,” Yuuri says with a content sigh. “I love you.”  
  
“Come here, you,” Victor says, sinking down onto the bed and holding his arms open. Yuuri doesn’t need to be told twice. He shifts so his head is on Victor’s chest, right over his heart. Victor takes his hand and kisses the wedding ring on Yuuri’s finger.  
  
“Good night, love,” Victor says, and presses another kiss to his temple. "I love you too."  
  
Yuuri thinks that every night with Victor is a good one.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come chat with me about YOI or anything else over on [Tumblr](https://burningphoenixwings.tumblr.com)!


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